


Comforting the Lonely

by WinchesterWife



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Begging, Begging Sam Winchester, Bottom Sam Winchester, Embedded Images, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Kissing, Rough Sex, Sex, Sex in the Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 11:29:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22643611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinchesterWife/pseuds/WinchesterWife
Summary: You are a widowed hunter who has been friends with the Winchesters for many years.  With nearly a year passing since the death of your husband, you came to the bunker to help the boys on a case.  You and Sam have some quiet time to talk about the grief that you both have felt in your lives, and to help each other conquer the horrible pain of loneliness.
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/You
Kudos: 31





	Comforting the Lonely

They say that there is no time frame for grief. No set way to get through it and no right or wrong way to deal with the pain. You appreciate that sentiment, but you wish you could help them understand that living through that pain is different than the feeling of someone trying to offer friendly advice. You can stand in the warmth of spring and not feel a thing. The bright sun doesn't chase away your inner darkness, the sounds of the birds chirping as they flirt with each other only angers you as you realize that even the animal kingdom got a happy ending where you didn't. Everything just goes by in a daily autopilot, leaving you feeling almost like a zombie.

Worse is the anger. If you aren't angry at your loved one, angry at God, or angry at life, where do you direct that building rage?

It had been six months since your husband had been killed on a hunt. This was yet another thing you couldn’t be angry about, as this was how your life worked. How the life of a hunter worked. You and your husband had done this for years and you both expected that this could happen one day. You treated your life like that of a military spouse, never knowing when the ball would drop and you would be widowed. The preparation didn't make the news any easier to bear, however. 

Sam and Dean had been amazing since it happened. You had met them many years ago when the two of you were stuck in the midst of that terrible fog that rolled into your old hometown. You saw a dead cop suddenly come back to life, you saw innocent God-fearing people suddenly turn on each other…it was more than you could try to comprehend. Ever since your life had been upended, stuck in your new reality. At that point the two of you were locked into the world of hunting; you couldn’t turn your back on what you now knew was out there. Ever since that day the two of you kept in contact with the Winchesters, helping them on cases and them in turn helping you. They were there to back you both up the night he died, and helped you get back on your feet emotionally in the aftermath. They called to check on you regularly. Especially Sam. He even sent flowers and new books for you to use on the job often. Dean, who looked at you as a little sister, found it funny to send porn magazine subscriptions. But that was just Dean. 

Months had passed with constant contact. The pain of the loss, however, was always there. But when they called to say they needed your help on a very large vamp nest, you couldn't say no. They had helped you more than they needed to. It was time to return the favor. Several weeks had passed and the nest kept shifting. Kept moving. Instead of long distance support, the boys gave you a room in the bunker to crash until it was all over. You had known them for years anyway; it wasn't as if you couldn't trust them. So on this day you sat in the library, glued to your laptop, trying to pick up the trail that was getting colder by the minute. 

"You were right there when I went to bed." Sam's voice could be heard as he stepped into the library. You didn't look up, but kept your nose buried in the info you were trying to gather, the laptop keys clacking as you searched things out online. 

"I know," you said quietly. "I haven't been to bed." Sam sat down across from you. You glanced up briefly to see a look of concern on his face. Oh boy...here came the worry-wart.

"I've been noticing the last few weeks...you are never in your room. The bed stays made. Before you even came to the bunker, I could text you at any time of the night and you would answer."

"Part of the process, I'm told. Apparently grief does that."

"Yeah." The sadness in his voice made you look up. You saw the pain in his eyes. The hurt. The anger. He looked at you again, clearing his throat. "Sorry. I just...um...I just know what you mean." Your heart sank as you realized your mistake. His parents, girls he had dated, one he told you he almost married...so much loss. And here you were acting as if this was only YOUR pain…

No one understood your pain more than Sam Winchester.

"I'm sorry," you said, shutting the laptop. "I didn't think about that."

"No, no," Sam said quickly. "You didn't do anything wrong. You have the right to feel how you do. I was just letting you know that you aren't alone." Sam smiled at you gently as he leaned forward. "So talk to me."

He had the most beautiful hazel eyes. They were so full of compassion and caring. He had ways made it impossible to say no to him. You leaned back in the chair with a sigh of defeat, throwing up your hands. "I just...I don't know. The feelings come in waves and they're never the same. I can laugh one minute and then something triggers a memory and I can barely get out of bed from the pain. I cry half the time and the other I can smile. But the work is all that keeps me distracted. Even if I try to lie down to sleep at night the memories keep spiraling through my head."

"Hence the insomnia." You nodded in agreement. "I've been there. When Jess died I stayed up for several days straight, unable to close my eyes. And when I did, it was nothing but nightmares. It took forever to get back on some kind of schedule.”

“So how did you do it? How did you learn to cope?”

Sam wrinkled his brow as he looked down at the table, thinking hard on his answer. “I’m…I’m honestly not sure that I ever did. I never went to any support groups or anything like that. Never looked for people who could help me. I just took one day at a time. Dean was there like he’s always been. But grief is never the same for any two people. When Dad died I tried to talk it out and work it out. But Dean chose to shut down and kinda went off the rails for a bit.” Sam looked up at you, a concerned look on his face. “Have you cried? At all?”

You looked away, not wanting to admit what he already knew was the answer. You cried when it happened. You cried when Sam and Dean burned the body. But since then you had purposely stayed busy. You needed to distract yourself so you wouldn’t think about it. Energy drinks helped you stay up all night so you wouldn’t risk passing out and having nightmares. The job kept you from thinking about the days that used to be so good. It was necessary to keep moving forward. To block it all out.

Wasn’t it?

Sam stood up and walked over to you. He reached out his hand to you, which you took. He helped you to stand up, holding his arms out in invitation. “Chew me out.”

You cocked an eyebrow in curiosity. “What?”  
“Pretend I’m him,” Sam said. “Tell me everything you’re feeling. Yell, scream, hit me. Get it out of your system. I’ve seen from Dean what happens when you don’t. It wasn’t pretty. Y/N, if you don’t deal, you will never be able to move forward. Believe me…I know.”

You stared at him in shock. Was he serious? How could you possibly do that? What if you hurt him? What if you lost control?

But then again, wasn’t that the point?

Closing your eyes, you pulled up every memory of your married life that you could. Every happy moment, every tear, every laugh, every scream. You refused to open your eyes to see that it was Sam. Instead, you kept them closed as you pictured your dead husband, and the tears began to slid down your cheeks. 

“How…how dare you.” You growled the words like a wounded animal. “How could you be so stupid? We were there to back you up. Why did you rush in like an idiot? Why did you leave me here?! You selfish bastard, you left me! I have to clean up the mess you left behind!” The waterfall of emotions began busting free from your mouth as you screamed louder and louder. You pounded on his chest with your fists as the tears fell. “Why did you this to me,” you cried, still punching him as you fell into his chest. “Why did you do this…”

It wasn’t long before you felt Sam’s arms wrap around you. You slowed the punching down as he pulled you in close, instead gripping the front of his flannel shirt in your hands as you balled like a baby. His hands went to your hair, holding you close as he stroked your locks. Sam really knew how to give hugs. He just somehow managed to wrap you up into him and pull you in until you felt safer and calmer than you had in a long time. You almost had no room to shake from your sobs. But maybe that was the point. Physically, emotionally, mentally, it was about pulling you in and keeping you safe. He continued to stroke your hair as he held you, letting you get all of the pain out, of only for a little while.

"It's okay," he said quietly. "It's okay. I'm here.” Yes he was. He always had been. He was always checking to make sure you were okay. Always sending texts or leaving voicemails just to check in. He was the kind of friend that you needed more than ever during this stage in your life…

Did...did he always smell this good?

You pulled away slowly as this thought hit you and instantly alarmed you. Wiping your eyes you looked up at Sam, clearing your throat nervously. "Um...thanks. I needed that."

"Hey, anytime.” Sam smiled at you warmly, continuing to look at you. He bent down, gently kissing the top of your head. That wasn't something you minded, but when he straightened up to look you in the eye again…

The look on his face. Something changed. 

He stared back at you with eyes full of his own sadness. Full of his own loneliness. And with a strange hooded expression that made your breath catch. You could hear his breathing change, the nervousness etched across his face as he looked at you.

"Sam?" He reached up in response, cupping the side of your head, running his fingers through your hair. Now it was your turn for your breathing to change. Was this attraction? Feelings growing? Simple loneliness? You weren't sure. But when you reached up to cover his hand with your own, you realized the same thing that he had in that instant. You both needed this.

When he leaned in to kiss you, you didn't move away or flinch. The first thing that hit you was how differently he kissed from the man that widowed you. The next thought that hit you as his tongue parted your lips and swept across yours was that he was amazing enough at this to murder you with just his mouth. You moaned lightly, gently fisting his hair as you moved in to deepen the kiss. Mercy...this man tasted wonderful. He growled against your lips, holding to you as fiercely as you were with him. How long had it been for him? For you? The need that seemed to be possessing you both was hard and raw.

Breaking the kiss, Sam gasped for air as he leaned his forehead against yours. "We...we shouldn't…"

"I know.

"Y/N, this is a bad idea…"

"Very, very bad idea…"

The hands that had gripped your head had slid down to your shoulders. They slid down your arms, down your sides, finally landing on your hips. His grip on you tightened as he suddenly pulled up into him. You gasped as you landed against his hard chest, feeling his crotch press tightly against you. The sound you made only sent his desire into overdrive as he locked eyes with you, growling in need.

"Screw it."

Before you knew what was happening Sam had attacked your mouth without mercy. You didn't argue at all; you had been ready to do the same. You banged against the table as he kissed you, your hands fumbling for the buttons on his shirt as your fought his tongue for dominance. Somehow you managed to disrobe him, the shirt falling to the floor behind him. You slid your hands across his chest, nails lightly scraping across the skin, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Sam. He refused to break the kiss, however, groaning against your lips as he unbuttoned your jeans and slid them down your legs. He wasted no time in dipping his hand into your underwear, fingers going straight to the prize he sought. At this point you broke the kiss as your head fell back with a moan as he stroked you.

"Y/N," he gasped. "You are soaked…"

"S...Sam…". Your words could only come out in gasps as he stroked your clit. The gasps gave way to loud cries as he slid his fingers inside of you. You spread your legs wider, pumping against his fingers. He lifted your shirt immediately taking your breast into his mouth as he worked you. 

You couldn't help but scream at this point. So many months. So much time and tension. With the combination of his tongue mercilessly flicking your nipple and his fingers pumping you hard, you fell back against the table with a loud scream as your body exploded. You were on the verge of crying, it felt so good. You screamed and cried his name as you felt yourself tighten around his fingers, begging him not to stop. It seemed like forever before you were able to come down, but with heavy gasps of air you managed to calm enough to look at Sam, seeing the hunger in his eyes had grown to a carnal level. Without thinking, you raised your legs and put your feet against his bare chest and shoved him hard. He fell backwards into the chair, landing with a grunt of shock. You straightened up to slide the pants completely off from your legs. Sam watched you disrobe from the waist down, his eyes hungry. He fumbled fast with his own zipper, wasting no time in taking off his pants and boxers. You hummed in appreciation as his cock sprung free.

What a gorgeous site. And what fierce speed you were both moving with. The loneliness you had both been feeling had caught up to you both. The understanding of each other's pain helped make that the perfect storm or sadness and need. You felt in a way that this was wrong, that you both were only using each other. But the other side of your knew that yes, you WERE using each other, but you both wanted to do that. Needed to do that. You both needed to feel something again, if only just for a moment. 

Without a word you moved to Sam and straddled him, sitting on his lap. His length rubbed gently across your clit, bringing out a groan from both of you. You did not want to take the time for playing around; you needed him inside you now. With that you lifted your hips and slide down on him. You gasped at the feel of him, not remembering this much girth ever sheathed inside of you. Sam gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises, moaning as his head fell back.

"Y/N," he moaned loudly. "Y/N...so good…” You started slow, grinding your hips against him with a steady pace. You couldn't help but groan at the feel of him. Goodness...he was so huge. He filled you so tightly. Sam gripped you even tighter, pulling you down onto his cock even harder. You gasped as he slammed into you.

"Sam!"

"Harder," he begged. "Faster. More." 

The sounds he made as he begged you drove you crazy. You couldn't help but agree with his request, speeding your hips to a feverish speed. His hips bucked up to meet you with each stroke as he held you tightly. This was crazy...you shouldn't be doing this…

"Please don't stop!" His loud cry completely blocked out the rational thoughts your mind was trying to get through to you. You slammed him harder, faster, feeling yourself tightening around him.

"Sam, I'm gonna…"

"Me too me too. Just don't stop, baby."

Baby. He called you baby…

That sent you over the edge as you felt your body tighten and explode. Your head fell back as you screamed louder than you ever had before, pounding into him hard with every wave of your orgasm. He joined you within seconds, crying out your name as his fingers dug into your hips. His body shuddered along with his breathing as you milked the last of his orgasm from him, your throat raw from your cries of ecstasy. 

Sweaty and spent and exhausted, you fell against him, your head resting against his now sweat soaked hair. Neither of you spoke for several minutes, your mutual panting the only sound you heard.

Sam was the first to speak. "Y/N I am so sorry. I don't know what came over me."

"We both needed this." You wanted the words as you continued to lean against his head, eyes closed as you tried to collect yourself. "We did nothing wrong here." Sam reached up and stroked your hair gently. The feel of his hand gently loving on you made you relax with a contented sigh 

"Maybe...maybe we could do nothing wrong again sometime.” You laughed as you sat up straight and looked at him, stroking his cheek.

"I would like that."


End file.
